Cracks In The Cement
by FallingStarsAndPaperFlowers
Summary: Oneshot. After the battle of New York, Tony stands on the roof of his tower, thinking, and wondering if he could take that final step, to end it all. He wonders why things turned out this way, and he remembers his past. He wants to do it, take the step, but he know's he can't. Trigger Warning: Contains suicidal thoughts and almost attempt. Read at your own risk.


**Cracks In The Cement**

He knew what he was.

He was no hero. He was not brave, he was not strong.

He was a man. A broken, pitiful man, who hid his pain behind a smile and a few glasses of alcohol.

He was a coward.

A bitter laugh escaped him. The people around him were fools, as much as he was.

They believed him. They believed his smile, they believed the mask he had so carefully constructed.

They believed his sarcastic words, his lies. They believed in the shell he'd made.

That's all he was, a shell.

Everyone around him saw only what he wanted them to see. They saw the smart, selfish, courageous man he'd always wanted to be.

No one ever bothered to look deeper. No one tried to break the shell, and see what was underneath.

He always thought it had been obvious. He was afraid that the people whom he called his friends, and whom called him their friend, would see the truth. Afraid, that they'd notice the darkness in his eyes, the pain behind his smile.

Afraid, and hopeful.

He wanted them to see. He wanted them to know that he was not what they thought he was.

He wanted someone to help him, but he could not speak up.

He was a hero.

He was supposed to be strong.

Except, he wasn't.

He never was.

He'd always been a delicate, foolish boy.

He learned the hard way that no one cared about your feelings. In real life, it didn't matter whether you were hurting, or depressed, or anything. You were supposed to be happy, and stable, and good.

The dark thoughts passed through his head, over and over.

He remembered his father. He remembered Afghanistan. The friend he could not save. He remembered New York.

He remembered, and cherished the pain it caused.

Because without the pain, who would he be?

Standing on the roof of his tower, he thought maybe he could do it. Staring down from the edge of the building, the wind pushing him ever so slightly off balance. He thought that maybe he could do it. Take the step. End it all.

He only hoped they would be able to forgive him.

Even so, staring at the ground so far below him, he knew he wouldn't be able to take that step, and just fall.

As much as he wanted to, he could not.

Suicide was a double edged sword.

You're a coward if you try, and either succeed or fail.

You're a coward if you want to try, but never do.

Suicide stems from cowardice. But sometimes, it's cowardice that prevents it. Because, as many people live as they are afraid to die, as die, because they are afraid to live.

Silent tears streamed down his face.

He was a coward no matter what he did.

He tensed as he heard footsteps come up behind him. A hand appeared on his shoulder, and he turned around, meeting his teary eyes with the one's of Bruce Banner.

Tony was glad it was him, but at the same time, he wished it was anyone else but the man in front of him now.

Bruce looked at him sadly, but didn't say a word. Instead, he put his arm around the broken man and led him away from the edge of the roof.

He wasn't angry. Just sad, that his friend would feel the same way he did not so long ago. When he had had the gun in his mouth, and managed to pull the trigger, only to have the Other Guy appear and spit the bullet right out.

Bruce walked him back to the lounge, and sat him down.

When he spoke, his voice was soft.

"I don't know what made you think of that Tony, I'm not sure I even want to know. Tell me if you want to, or don't. It doesn't matter. I won't stop you after today if you still feel that's what you need to do. You know I have experience with this kind of thing. But you need to understand what you'll leave behind."

Tony stared at him. He'd expected the whole 'Suicide is not the answer blah... blah... blah...', not this. He was grateful though. Somehow, he felt this might help him.

"Imagine if you did jump off that roof. You jump, and revel in the thrill of the fall, and then you hit the cement. First, there's your body, for all to see it. And even after all evidence you were there is cleared away, everyone will still remember. They'll remember, and hate you for doing that."

Tony nodded slightly, waiting for Bruce to continue.

"After you jump, there's telling everyone who knew and loved you about the incident. They'll be shocked, they will grieve. They won't understand though. No matter what anyone says, they won't truly understand; because they're not you. They haven't been through what you have, they haven't lived your life. No one can truly understand, but they can try, and that's what makes it so wonderful. They know they can't, they'll never even come close to understanding, yet they still try. That's the beauty of humanity.

"Everyone who loved you will try to understand what made you turn to that. They'll wonder if they could have stopped you, if they could have helped before it was too late. And the answer is no, because if they didn't notice before, they wouldn't notice until it's too late. They'll cry, they'll grieve. And they'll hate you, for doing that to them. For most, it'll be temporary. It'll be there for a few moments, but then it will die down, and they'll go right back to blaming themselves. For some, it'll stay with them. But everyone will experience that feeling towards you.

"Eventually, it'll begin to calm down. People will begin to heal, they'll move on. But they won't forget. Oh no, they won't forget. Not you, at least. You're the great Iron Man, protector of the people. They'll remember, and the story will be passed down for ages. How the great Tony Stark lost the will to live. Anyone else though, they'd be forgotten within the next couple generations. Someone else, who did the same things as you, would take your place, and the cycle would begin again.

"But the people closest to you, oh they'll never, ever forget. They'll remember. And while the grief might fade, it'll still be there. Haunting them in their most vulnerable moments. Over and over again, they'll wonder what caused you to turn to this. They'll wonder, and they'll come up with theories. They may be wrong, they may be somewhat true, if they're lucky they might even be right. But never completely, because again, they've never experienced the things you have in the same way. It's how the world works. You can't truly put yourself in someone else's shoes. You can't see the world through someone else's eyes. You can try, and maybe get close, but you can never fully succeed.

"They'll wonder. They'll blame. They'll forgive. They'll forget, if they're lucky. It's a cycle, one everyone goes through at some point. What you need to remember, is that the pain you cause other people, will be far greater than the pain you felt yourself. It doesn't matter if you have the worst life in the world, someone cares about you, someone will feel the pain of your loss, and they will live, with a part of them missing. The part that was you. And it will never, ever be filled.

"And they'll walk by the place your body was, and sometimes they'll stare at the cement, wondering why? But after that, they'll be more perceptive to the things around them. They'll be more adept at telling when people are hurting, they'll be able to help. Because they think they understand, but they still don't. They'll look at the cement, staring at the cracks. Because the cracks in the cement are the proof they need that even the strongest person can break."

By the end of the speech, Bruce was no longer looking at Tony, but staring out the window. Tony knew, somewhere, that what Bruce said was right. He might not agree with all of it, but in some sense, it was all true. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he realized just how much more effective that speech was compared to the whole mushy 'think of the beauty of the world you'll leave behind. think of the people.'

He'd said the same thing, but in a more realistic way.

"Remember that Tony. And next time you're feeling that way, if you want, come talk to me. I can't understand fully, but I can try. And I would like to. All these feelings are, are the cracks that line the cement. And with time, if you allow it, they might fade away until they're not worth noticing anymore."

With that, Bruce turned on his heel and left the room, leaving behind a slightly amazed Tony.

He knew Bruce was smart, but he never thought he'd turn out to be so wise.

And he was right.

These feelings wouldn't go away.

No, that just didn't happen.

But maybe, just maybe, they could begin to fade. Maybe someday, they could fade and fade until, even though they were still there, they wouldn't be strong enough to be worth the energy it took to notice them.

Because Bruce was right.

All this was, was cracks in the cement.


End file.
